


Of Penguins and Pyrotechnics

by MYuzuki



Series: A Motley Little Crew of Dysfunction [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Explosions, Family Bonding, Gen, Giant Robots, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Specifically a giant robot penguin!, b/c as always i cannot tag to save my life, this probably qualifies as crack fic if we're being honest lol XD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 10:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYuzuki/pseuds/MYuzuki
Summary: Jason's not sure what it says about his lifestyle choices that fighting a two-story tall robotic armored penguin on a Friday night is normal.





	Of Penguins and Pyrotechnics

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so...this is the really ridiculous ficlet I've mentioned a few times. It was inspired by a dialogue prompt I stumbled across one day (specifically, Writing Prompt #69 from writerposts on Instagram, which consisted of “Eh, screw it. Let's just blow it up and call it a day. ”); it also involves a really huge robotic penguin because why not? 
> 
> (Disclaimer: I actually really adore penguins in general and this fic wasn't done out of any dislike for penguins, just in case anyone's wondering, lol. XD I just went “what would be the most ridiculous giant robot possible given the villains in Gotham”, and somehow I ended up with Cobblepot building a giant robot penguin. I may or may not have been sleep deprived when this idea came to me, don't judge :P). 
> 
> Basically, I wanted something a little more light-hearted and fun this time, so this just sort of happened. XD Also, sorry about the massive delay in writing and posting this; life's been pretty hectic lately between work and family stuff, and then I got a bit sidetracked by some other story ideas, but yeah. Here you go!

**Of Penguins and Pyrotechnics**

* * *

 

Jason's not sure what it says about his lifestyle choices that fighting a two-story tall robotic armored penguin on a Friday night is  _normal_.

(He's also not sure what the robot's existence says about Oswald Cobblepot, who had built the damn thing and unleashed it on the people of Gotham, but Jason's figures that's probably not really relevant at the moment anyway.)

He also has to admit, after about fifteen minutes of fighting, that his bullets aren't doing much damage to the machine thanks to its thick metal armor.

He very much wishes that he had time to pop back over to his loft on Sycamore Street to grab some armor-piercing ammunition, but since leaving the so-called PenDroid to its own devices could result in catastrophic property damage and loss of life, that doesn't seem to be an option.

Of course, fighting the twenty-foot tall robot on his own isn't really a feasible plan either, if the way he's being kicked around like a hacky-sack is any indication (and thank God he'd just invested in new body armor or that last hit definitely would have broken something).

He decides to do the smart thing and call for back-up.

He retreats to the top of a nearby office building, fires a few shots at the ridiculous robot to keep it coming towards him instead of going after more vulnerable targets, and whips out his cell phone to call Oracle because the comm piece in his helmet had shorted out from the PenDroid's last attack.

"What's your status?" Barbara demands immediately. "Are you injured?"

"A bit banged up, but otherwise fine," Jason assures her, deliberately ignoring the skeptical sound he gets in response. "Look, forget about me for now," he says hastily, "this stupid-ass robot that Penguin built is turning out to be more than my lone wolf self can handle comfortably. Is there anyone available right now that you could send my way?"

"What happened to Starfire and Arsenal?" she asks. "I thought they were in town visiting you this week."

"They were," Jason answers, "but Roy had to go back to Star City for some emergency with Dinah and Oliver this morning, and Kori didn't want for him to be by himself so she went, too."

"Well, that sucks," is Oracle's succinct summary. "Okay, let me touch base with the others and get back to you."

"Sure, no problem," Jason says, sarcasm thick enough to be heard even through the voice modulation in his helmet. "I'll just wait here while the giant robot penguin kicks my ass, no biggie."

"You are  _such_  an asshole," Babs says, her tone almost fond, and then she hangs up.

The Red Hood spends the next two minutes and thirty-four seconds shooting mostly-useless bullets at the PenDroid to hold its attention, and then his phone goes off.

Distracted by the ringtone precisely as the PenDroid swings a wing at him, he gets tossed into the side of a condemned apartment building and tumbles down onto the nearest fire escape with a curse and a groan. "Great timing there," he grouses once he finally manages to answer the call. "Really superb.  _Please_  tell me that you have goods news," he goes on to demand.

"Nightwing, Spoiler, and Robin are en route to your location now," Oracle informs him. "Batman, Red Robin and Black Bat would come as well, but apparently the Riddler's holding part of downtown Gotham hostage and they're busy trying to deal with that."

"Since when does Riddler take captives?" Jason wonders aloud. "I mean, isn't distracting us with annoying decoys while he robs a bank more his style?" He shakes his head as the PenDroid stomps closer. "You know what, never mind, I don't care. What's the ETA on my idiot siblings?"

"Hey, excuse you!" a bright and familiar voice says as a cloaked figure clad entirely in purple drops down beside him. "We're not the ones being punted around like a hot potato by a robot penguin, thank you very much!"

In the several weeks that had passed since he'd last seen her, Jason had forgotten how much he loved Steph's sharp tongue. "Spoiler," he replies, and even the high-tech modulator in his helmet can't entirely mask the exasperated fondness in his voice. "Thanks for dropping in for a visit," he adds, glancing pointedly from Steph to the rooftop ledge she'd literally dropped down from.

She groans and smacks him lightly on the arm. "Don't make such terrible puns," she says chidingly. "That's Disco Doofus's job."

Jason can't quite hep the snort of laughter he gives. "Tim finally showed you his picture's of Dick's old costume?"

"He did and  _it was hideous_ , oh my God. How could he bear to go outside in that monstrosity? And more importantly, why didn't anyone stage an intervention? Surely such a fashion disaster calls for  _some_  sort of family action."

Jason's actually wheezing from laughter by the time Steph's done with her rant and reaches over to pull her into a one-armed hug before he can overthink it, even as he fires a couple shots at the PenDroid with his free hand. "I missed you, blondie."

If Steph is surprised at all by his sudden expression of affection, she doesn't show it in any way. Instead, she just leans into him, returns the hug, and then throws a flashbang into the PenDroid's face to disrupt its tracking sensors. "I missed you, too, jerkwad. Try to stay in touch better, okay?"

"I'll try," Jason says, because...yeah, he could've been better about answering messages from some of siblings these last few...weeks, months? Years?

Whatever; the point is, he's going to try and suck less at staying in touch in the future. "Anyway," he says now, "where is Big Bird? Oracle said he was coming to this little penguin party, too, along with the brat."

"Oh, don't worry," Spoiler says in a tone so cheerful and innocent that it instantly does make him worry. "I'm sure they'll both be here soon."

Jason turns to give her a suspicious side-eye, although the full effect if undoubtedly diminished (it not outright thwarted) thanks to his helmet. "What are you-"

Before he even has a chance to finish his sentence, he nearly goes toppling over when someone suddenly latches onto him via a flying tackle-hug.

Well, at least that answers the question of 'where's Dick' although Jason's not sure why his overly exuberant brother couldn't just say hello like a normal person. No, instead Nightwing had to go all octopus arms and squeeze the life out of him with a  _hug_.

(Jason would sooner shoot himself in the foot than admit it, but he's secretly a bit relieved and grateful that they've managed to patch up things between them enough for such a ridiculous greeting to even be possible, when even just a few months previously Jason's immediate response to anyone accosting in any manner would have involved bullets and knives and punches.

So while he won't admit it to anyone, he can't help but think that his big brother greeting him with such open and trusting affection is...nice.

And because he does actually enjoy his brother's company about eighty percent of the time, Jason just gives a long-suffering sigh and lets Dick hug him, instead of drop-kicking the goofball off the edge of the balcony.

"You know, when I called for backup," Jason notes dryly, "this isn't precisely what I had in mind." He lets Dick cling a bit longer, then shifts and squirms just enough to let his brother know that it's time to let go or face the consequences.

Dick, who's been noticeably trying harder at the genuinely-considerate-big-brother thing, holds Jason close for another second or two then lets go and steps away with a rueful smile. "Yeah, I figured as much. But how can I resist giving my Little Wing a hug? It's been so long since I've seen you!"

"We literally saw each other like five days ago," Jason counters with a huff even as he and his brother hurl some more flash bangs at the PenDroid while Steph fires off her grapple and swings over to the next building to get a better vantage point. "Stop being so melodramatic."

"He can't help it," a new voice says over the communication line, seconds before the youngest member of their family arrives on the scene with a familiar scowl on his youthful face. "It's just in his nature to be as annoyingly over the top as possible."

Dick gives a smile so bright it puts the sun to shame (seriously, how does he do that?) and the laughs lightly. "Aw, so mean, Little D!"

Damian just snorts and rolls his eyes, an action that Jason mimics even as he grins, because at this point in time and in this particular context that sort of reaction is practically a gesture of affection from the little brat.

"Moving on," Damian says now, his tone vaguely condescending in a way that's less infuriating and more amusing (although that could just be Jason's familiarity with the kid now), "do anyone have an actual plan of action for dealing with this ridiculous mechanical contraption? Because thus far no one has managed to do any significant damage to it, and I abhor the idea of Cobblepot besting us like this."

"I abhor the idea of Penguin besting us in general," Dick replies dryly, "but this thing is heavily armored and its hits hard an automaton. We're going to need to proceed with caution."

Jason tilts his head as he considers this. "With caution, huh." Then he shrugs. "Eh, screw it," he says, pulling a block of C4 out of an inner jacket pocket. "Let's just blow it up and call it a day."

Both Nightwing and Robin give little starts of surprise at the sight of the explosive. "Are you telling me that you just wander around the city with high-grade explosives stuffed in your pockets?" Dick demands, his voice jumping up an octave. Then he drags a hand down his face with a groan. "What am I saying, it's _you_. Of course you go around with C4 in your pockets."

"I see no problem with it," Damian pitches in. "It's important for a warrior to be well-equipped if they are to be successful."

"Okay, yes, but not _equipped with C4_ , Robin, that's just asking for trouble-"

Jason rolls his eyes again and gets to work on assembling a quick but effective anti-PenDroid bomb while his brothers bicker over the pros and cons of carrying around explosives on patrol.

(He vaguely wonders if he should  _really_  shake up Dick's composure by reminding his brother that he has C4 not just in his crime-fighting arsenal but also in his helmet in the event of a worst-case scenario, but ultimately decides that it would ruin the fun mood of the evening.)

Once he's got a passable bomb rigged up (it's not one of his finest works, but it's not half bad and it'll certainly get the job done, especially thanks to the magnets he attached to ensure that it sticks to the PenDroid rather than bouncing off) he lifts his free hand and waves at Steph. "Yo, blondie, get clear of the robot," he says over the coms. "We're about to have a fireworks show."

"Copy that," Spoiler replies, breaking off from hurling smoke bombs and instead shooting off her grapple to get some distance. "I look forward to the pyrotechnics," she adds, her voice sly.

"As do I," Damian remarks, fixing Jason in an expectant look.

"The immediate area has already been completely evacuated," Oracle chimes in, "so feel free to cut loose whenever you're ready."

"You," Dick tells Jason, expression and tone both long-suffering, "are a terrible influence."

Jason just gives him a shit-eating grin. "Bombs away," he says cheerfully, and proceeds to chuck his handmade sticky bomb at the gigantic robot. It smacks into the PenDroid's metallic chest with a satisfying _ker-thunk_ sound and sticks there thanks to the magnets.

Then he hits the button on the detonator and watches in satisfaction as the PenDroid is blown to smithereens, leaving just a shattered and smoldering shell of twisted metal in its place.

"Nicely done, Hood," Robin says, his tone one of reluctant admiration. "It was a spectacular explosion."

"You're damn right it was," Jason responds, pleased by it effectiveness.

Dick shakes his head, but he's smiling, too. "Next time," he says with a chuckle, "why don't you just start with the C4 and save us the trouble of futilely throwing batarangs at an armored robot?"

"What, and miss out on the opportunity to make fun of you? Never. Now," Jason continues, cracking his knuckles, "who's up for helping me run down Cobblepot to explain to him why setting a giant robot loose on Gotham is a bad career move?"

(The chorus of affirmatives he receives is like music to his ears, and he has to grudgingly admit that (aside from getting tossed into a building by a two-story tall penguin) maybe as Friday nights go this one isn't quite so bad after all.)


End file.
